The Myth of Ninja Scroll
by LiNaKie
Summary: This is my attempt at writing the story of Ninja scroll as if it were an ancient myth or legend like the Iliad or the Odyssey. I haven't done much yet, but I'm still working on it. I'd love to know what you think! :)


Disclaimer: The story of Ninja scroll is not my own, I am simply writing a story about it.  
  
Ninja Scroll  
  
Ok now, this is my attempt at writing the story of ninja scroll as if it happened long ago and now had mythical status amongst the people of Japan. Because I study Greek epics I'm trying to write vaguely like they did, so the dialogue has been changed and stuff. But I hope you like it!  
  
I tell a tale of a man, Jubei, a man of simple principles and ethics, yet he wielded the blade unlike any other. In life he was the greatest of all swordsmen, and fought with a strength and speed so great, he could face a hundred master ninjas, and still emerge the victor. Though many of his tales hold interest, the saga of Gemma, to which many know the story of today, is without a doubt the most incredible of his tales.  
  
Prologue  
  
The day had been long and free of troubles, the once bright sun upon its skybound peak was beginning to bow to the rise of the moon, and cast a glow of red and orange all around. Upon a wooden pier, some distance away from any village or port sat a man in wait; with two others hidden beneath the supports. He was a short man of few admirable qualities, who brandished what one would call a firearm, back then of course few had ever seen such a thing. He kept both eyes firmly upon the distance, looking for any sign of a man; and saw but the high mountains before him. The sun fell low, and a light mist swept about the pier, shrouding the far distance in a haze. Then came Jubei, clad in simple brown coverings and a hat of straw. In the one hand he ate a bun, in the other he held the black strap of his blade upon his shoulder. At his arrival, the man in wait stood quickly and yelled. 'Fool! Idiot! Within our hands we held riches for us all, three hundred pieces of gold in worth. Yet you return them for simple price!' The dispute was over a valued item, a sword belonging to a group of holy-men, its value was great but there had been great argument as to the price in which it should be returned. To his colleague's remarks, Jubei made no comment for a time, and continuing to eat, took two steps forward. 'You would have me swindle the goods for an over-valued price?' Come now, I may be a man for hire but even I have some decency and principles.' Then came a sound below the pier, and two men leapt upon him, both brandishing fishing spears. They were horribly thin and ragged, whose eyes burned eagerly for blood. The position was greatly in their advantage, for they leapt quick and furiously at both sides. But the ever-cautious Jubei brought his sword forward, threw his bun high up into the air, and struck both into the water with the blunt edge of his sword. In horror, the head of such a motley crew turned his weapon onto Jubei, only for it to split in halves and his coverings fall torn down to the undergarments. Jubei then caught his bun from its descent and ate casually once more, leaving the barely clad man to his worries. What harsh remarks were made at him, he paid no heed. Instead he looked skybound and heard the distant grown of thunder, and saw clouds darken in the distance. 'A storm comes' said he 'I must be away.' And he was.  
  
That night the storm tore through the lands as if a murderer whose victim lay below him. Trees were torn and uprooted from the ground, like a mans hair being ripped from the scalp in clumps by ravaging fingers. The howling winds chanted endless choruses of woe and misery; and the heavy rains were the stuff of heavenly tears. The roofs of many a home were pulled free from their rafters, as if they were a healing wound, and the world an impatient victim. Young children lay huddled with their mothers in fright, brave folk tended to their waning homes; and all through the night this torment lasted. Rarely in histories course were the skies angered as they were that night. 


End file.
